The Case of the Pilfered Tortoise Shell
by Kamejen
Summary: In case 00 of the Animal Forest Files, we find that Mayor Tortimer's shell is missing! Can recently assigned boy detective Bruno solve the case? Which of Animal Forest's residents took the tortoise's treasure? Laughs outnumber the gasps in this mystery!


**The Animal Forest Files**

**(The Case of the Pilfered Tortoise Shell)**

"Pellyyyyy!" came an anguished squeal from Mayor Tortimer's private office inside of Town Hall, causing everyone present in the lobby to jump. "Pelly, come quickly! It's gone! It's gone, I tell you!"

"Excuse me please," Pelly, the pretty young receptionist said with an apologetic bow to Bruno, the only human resident of Animal Forest. He had come in to get rid of his garbage, and hadn't even made it to the recycle bin before the terrific outburst occurred. Pelly smoothed out her ruffled feathers before smiling at Bruno. "I'll be just a moment."

"Sounds like the mayor's nap has given him nightmares," Bruno laughed with an impish wink. "I wonder what someone like the mayor would have nightmares about?"

"Excuse me," Pelly said again, trying not to laugh as she turned and flitted off into the mayor's private office, worried about what she might find when she checked in on her boss.

"Mr. Mayor!" she cried when she flung open the door. "How indecent! Put on your shell this instant! What would the townspeople say?"

"I would if I had it, you silly bird!" he fumed, glaring at her from behind the pillows he was using to cover his undershirt and boxers from her view. "What did you think I was yelling about? Some hoodlums have stolen my beautiful shell, and now I'm going to be a laughingstock! They'll all be talking about it – about how the mayor's new clothes are so grand, but he only pretends he can see them! I've heard this story before, you know!"

He was so riled up that his mind was mixing reality with bedtime stories again, so Pelly knew she had to do something soon, or he'd have another one of his tantrum fits. "Now do try to be calm," she cried in desperation. "We don't know for sure that someone's stolen it! Where was it when you last took it off?"

"Right there, on the chair beside my sofa," he sniffed angrily, pointing to the chair at the small writing desk beside the large, red sofa he used for his afternoon naps. "I hang it on the back of the chair every time I take my nap. I'm sure the thief took his time to learn my habits before he made his move. Darn my efficient predictability! Darn my dashing good looks! If I were a homelier tortoise, I'm sure this would never have happened!"

Trying to maintain a composed expression, Pelly nodded her head reassuringly. "Well, the best we can do is put up a message on the town bulletin board for people to be on the lookout for your shell," she sighed. "If we can't find it in the office, we're out of luck. It wouldn't do to go searching through peoples' homes."

"Maybe not," came a voice from behind them, causing Pelly to turn as their attention was drawn to Bruno, who had been listening to their very audible conversation. "Just the same, if someone in town HAS taken the shell, they shouldn't be allowed to get away with it. Don't you think so, Mayor Tortimer?"

"Well of course I do!" he snapped testily. "If it were up to me, I'd have the scoundrel tarred and feathered... or if he was already feathered, I'd have him de-feathered and then tarred! Hey, wait a minute! It _is_ up to me! I'm the mayor in this town, consarn it! Pelly, put in an order with Nook for a vat of hot tar, and at least five down pillows' worth of feathers!"

"All I'm saying is that we shouldn't just post a message and let that be the end of it," Bruno continued, grinning and setting down his bag of garbage. "Let me help you look for it, Mr. Mayor. Lucky and I have been watching this great detective series on TV, and I think I could help you find your shell, along with the person responsible for its disappearance!"

Tortimer eyed the shaggy-haired, eager-faced Bruno critically. "I'll do anything to get my precious shell back," he sighed at last. "I've had that baby all my life. It's like a second home to me. All right, youngster. However, if we do this, we do it together. I want to be there to see how you're going to handle the matter."

"Of course," the kid replied, clapping his hands in appreciative joy. "I wish Lucky was here to help, but he left yesterday to visit his mom in the city."

"Hey, wait a minute," Tortimer cried, snapping his scaly fingers and brightening as an idea occurred to him. "Why don't we ring up Booker and Copper and have them help? Those two can sniff out troublemakers, can't they? It's what we're paying their meager salaries for, anyway."

"Oh sir, Copper's out sick with the flu," Pelly interjected. "And we can try Booker, but without his brother Copper there, I'm afraid he won't want to even try to find a robber. You know how skittish he is about... well, everything."

"Dagnabbit!" Tortimer exclaimed, dropping his pillows and stamping his feet angrily. Pelly turned away in shame, while Bruno tried not to laugh. "Those pesky pooches! Fine! I'll have to rely on you then, Bruno. So let's get started, already!"

"Um... are you going to go out like that, Sir?" Pelly asked timidly, keeping her head turned as she pretended to sort letters at her desk. "Perhaps it would be better if you er... put something on first."

"My shell IS my something!" he roared. "What in the name of Jingle am I supposed to wear now?"

"I have an idea!" Bruno replied, grinning as he opened his knapsack and dug around inside it. "Margie gave this to me today for delivering a letter to Kabuki. You can have it, Mr. Mayor. I don't really need it anyway."

He located the item he was looking for, and he pulled a shirt out of his bag. He handed it to Mayor Tortimer, who grabbed it and put it on immediately. Had he looked at it first, he might have objected, since it was a princess shirt, and it looked positively and laughably hideous on him. He was too intent on getting his shell back, however, so the look of his surrogate clothing didn't really matter to him at the moment.

Stifling a chortle, Bruno grabbed his bag of trash and hastily lugged it to the recycle bin. When he opened the pungent bin, he discovered Derwin inside, munching on an apple someone had thrown away. "Oh, hi Bruno!" he said affably. "Someone actually threw away a perfectly tasty apple. There's only one or two worms in it and everything! Wanna go halfsies on it?"

"Uh... that's okay, Derwin," Bruno replied, feeling a little queasy just looking at the discolored, mushy apple in Derwin's sticky, feathery fingers. "While you're here, though, I wouldn't mind asking you a few questions, if you have the time. Oh, but wait a second." He opened his knapsack again and dug around until he found a hat, which he donned at once. Why he had a detective hat in his bag, he didn't say, and no one asked, so it went entirely unmentioned (save for in the the story I'm telling you, fair readers).

"That's better," he chuckled. "Now then. Where were you on the night of... er... this afternoon?" he demanded, pointing a finger at Derwin's munching face and glaring at him accusingly. "And don't try to fib your way clear of any misdeeds, my feathery friend!"

"Why Bruno, you sly dog," he chuckled, blushing furiously. "You know where I was! I was at your house, of course! I was there all afternoon, poking around your furniture and emptying your refrigerator. I told you I was gonna do that!"

"You... you did?" Bruno asked, completely nonplussed. "I don't remember that. Wait, how did you get in without a key?"

"You know," Derwin chuckled. "The same way I always do!"

"This is a waste of time," Tortimer groaned. "This yucky duck obviously didn't take my shell, because he has no more discriminating taste than a mealworm! Let's investigate some real suspects, Bruno!" He grabbed Bruno's wrist and yanked him out of Town Hall, despite the puzzled boy's protests and apparent displeasure for his discovery of Derwin's stalker-like antics.

Five minutes later found them outside the house of Stitches, or the Technicolor dream bear, as his friends affectionately called him. He was sleeping when they knocked on his door, so understandably, he was a little confused and irritable.

"Whozzat?" he mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning when he opened the door. "Bruno? Ergh, that sun's bright. Bruno, why'dja wake me? I was dreaming about swimming in a pool of crème bruleé! Hey, is that the mayor?" He woke up a little as he realized it was indeed Mayor Tortimer there with Bruno. "There's something different about you, today, Mayor. Did you get a makeover or something?"

"Never you mind," Tortimer growled. "All right, Bruno. Go ahead and question the suspect!"

"Huh?" Stitches yawned. "What's this all about?"

"Stitches, have you seen Mayor Tortimer's shell, by any chance?" he asked, wondering how long it would take the sleepy bear to notice what had replaced it. "It's really important. We think it's been stolen."

"What? Someone stole the mayor's shell?" Stitches was wide awake now, and he gaped at Mayor Tortimer in disbelief. "Wow, it really is gone! But... but Mr. Mayor! Why are you wearing THAT thing?" He pointed in surprise at the mayor's choice of clothing.

Tortimer looked down at his clothes and immediately turned a deep shade of red. "That... that's none of your business!" he croaked. "Just... just tell us what you know, you shifty-eyed rascal! Did you take my shell?"

Stitches laughed good-naturedly. "That's so silly!" he chuckled. "What would I do with that moldy old thing? I couldn't very well eat it, and I doubt it'd make a very good stew pot either."

"Moldy? Stew pot?!" Tortimer gasped, the rage and indignant fury visibly building in his wrinkled, reddened face. Hoping to avoid the blood-pressure spiking outburst that was soon to erupt, Bruno quickly changed the subject.

"Have you been here all afternoon, Stitches?" he asked him hastily. "At your house, I mean?"

"Yup. I came home at nine this morning and went to bed not long after that. I wasn't supposed to get up again for a couple hours, but I guess some things are more important than my beauty rest. I sure hope you guys find the mayor's shell. He looks awfully scrawny without it. Would you like a big slice of cake, Mr. Mayor? It might help to fill you out a little!"

"Why... you colorful clod! I'm in the best shape of my life! If I were to eat like you do, I'd never fit in my shell again! Let's go, Bruno! Obviously this little half-wit is free of guilt, even if he's also free of manners!"

Bruno shot Stitches a knowing wink, causing him to grin as he waved good-bye to them and went back inside his house. That was one more down. Their next suspect was Baabara, the snooty sheep with an attitude that was only matched by her love of chic furniture. They found her outside her house, watering flowers, and when they walked up to her, she looked over her nose at them disdainfully.

"Don't tell me you two are coming to speak with _me_," she groaned dramatically. "Whaa-a-atever will people think?"

"Good afternoon to you too, Baabara," Bruno laughed. "We're just trying to solve a little mystery, is all. Tell us; have you seen anyone suspicious around here lately? There seems to be a thief loose in Animal Forest."

"What, you mean besides that twitchy, green shrimp with you, Daahling?" she drawled, pointing a dainty hoof at Tortimer, who stared at her with a look that was the very image of indignation. "No, not really. I haven't been out and about much today, since it's my baking day and a-a-all. Ugh. A-a-although it pains me to lower myself to your level, I must maintain my standards of etiquette. Would either of you like a freshly baked currant bun?"

"Not if they were made of gold and had rubies for the gooey center!" Tortimer snarled. "This one's mighty fishy, Bruno. Maybe you'd better let me handle her!"

Trying desperately to rein in his mirth, Bruno stepped aside and watched the mayor march toward Baabara, his speckled chin jutting out and his keen eyes flashing angrily. He cleared his throat before beginning his interrogation.

"So you say you were here all afternoon, eh?" he challenged her. "A likely story indeed. If you've been baking, why don't you have flour all over your clothes, eh? Answer me that, you woolly hussy!"

"Well, I never!" Baabara exclaimed, planting her hooves on her hips and lowering her head threateningly. "I wore an apron, you do-o-oddering coot! Me, wear soiled clothes? Never! I always wear the finest and most beautiful clothes in this backwa-a-ater Hicksville!"

"Ah-ha!" he crowed triumphantly. "We've got her now, Bruno! She's practically confessed to the crime! Obviously she coveted my shell, as it's easily the most fashionable article in all the town! She must have it stashed in that house! Well, I'm not going to wait for permission from a thief! I'm going in there and taking back my shell, Missie, and you'd better just stand aside!"

"What in heaven's name are you prattling about, you senile scoundrel? I haven't got any musty old shell in my house! Why, the very idea fills me with horror! It would get the 'old' on all my beautiful furniture!"

They began to growl and ball their fists, and Bruno knew that if he didn't intervene now, there would be a small war in front of Baabara's tidy house. "Would you mind if the Mayor had a quick look inside just to satisfy his curiosity?" he asked her, passively sidling up alongside Tortimer and putting a hand on his shoulder. "He's very distraught about the loss of his shell, as you can imagine. It's making him act a little more rashly than he should."

"Well, if it'll get the growling brute out of my wool, I guess I have no objections," she snorted. "Just make sure you two wipe those filthy feet of yours before coming inside. I won't have you tracking dirt and grass stains all over my lovely carpet."

After a thorough inspection, they were unable to find anything that even resembled Tortimer's shell, although he had practically insisted that they open up the floorboards in case she had a hidden cellar for it. When they finally left, they were no closer to finding the shell, but at least they were able to eliminate Baabara from suspicion.

They visited Kabuki's, Bruno's, Derwin's, Chief's, and Wolfgang's houses, and although Derwin had some rather suspicious-looking lumps under his carpet, they all turned out to be stashes of aging cheese. Aside from that, they had turned up exactly zero leads. The only house they hadn't searched was Lucky', since he hadn't even been there that day.

"It's hopeless," Tortimer wailed, sitting on the front steps of Town Hall and burying his face in his shaking, clawed hands. "I'll never get my old friend back! It's probably hit the black market by now." His head shot up as all at once he was hit by a sudden inspiration. "The black market!" he exclaimed. "Of course! Come, young detective Bruno! I think I've solved the mystery!" He grabbed Bruno's wrist and once again dragged him away, leaving Bruno wondering how such a grizzled old turtle could move so very quickly.

They only had a short distance to walk, and then they found themselves outside the front of Redd's sales tent. Glaring triumphantly at the subtly-colored structure, Tortimer pushed against the flap in an effort to go inside, but he found his way blocked by someone pushing from the other side.

"Now hold on a moment, there, friend!" a voice from inside cried. "I can't just go letting every Tom, Rick, and Larry into my fine establishment! I've got my reputation to uphold! Unless you can prove you're a member of old Redd's family, you ain't getting past the door!"

"Let me in this minute, you slanty-eyed crook!" Tortimer bellowed. "I know it was you! Fess up and I'll get Copper to go easy on you!"

"I... I swear I have no idea what you're talking about!" Redd squeaked, his voice much higher in pitch than before. "If it's about that painting, I swear the dealer told me it was an original! My eyes aren't so good, you see, and I have trouble telling the difference..."

"I'm not talking about some stupid painting! I'm talking about my shell, you fuzz-brain! Give it back to me right now, or I'll have you thrown in the hoosegow!"

"Uh, Mr. Mayor? Do we have a hoosegow?" Bruno asked him curiously.

"Well... no, but we can certainly find a nice, cramped place to shove this reprobate into," he muttered waspishly. "Don't bother me when I'm interrogatin', kid. Just listen to an old pro, and you might learn something useful!"

"Shell?" Red said, sounding very bewildered indeed. "I don't sell shells. Did you come here looking for _that_?"

"Yes, darn it!" the mayor howled. "I know you've got it in there, you tawny crook! Now lemme in and take your medicine like a man!"

"Well, if you insist, your honor," Redd chuckled. "I didn't realize this was an official investigation. I'll be more than happy to cooperate with you!" He lifted the flap and held his hand out with a flourish, beckoning them inside. "Ah, Bruno! You're with him, I see! I don't suppose I could interest you in a hospital bed today, could I? Got one brand spankin' new from the manufacturer, with no flaws at all." He turned his head aside and whispered lowly to himself, "none that you could see, anyway, heheh."

"You'll be needing that hospital bed when I get my shell back from you, you bushy-tailed twit! Now where is it? I can't see it anywhere!"

"Why Mr. Mayor, this is all I have. I'm just a poor businessman trying to make ends meet. I haven't seen your shell, but you can rest assured that if I did, I'd let the proper authorities know right away!"

"In a pig's eye," Tortimer spat. "What complete and utter rot! You must have sold it already! There, that sold sign! What used to be in that spot?"

"Oh that? Um, well... you see... that is..." Redd quailed visibly and laughed a nervous laugh. "Your grace, you must promise not to get angry with Old Redd. He was just trying to make a sale, and you weren't here..."

"Spit it out, you fiend!" Tortimer bellowed. "What did you sell?"

"It was... a massage chair," he squeaked, hiding behind the hospital bed and peeking at them from behind the barred headboard. "I sold it earlier this morning, but I swear I didn't think you'd want it! It was a ghastly shade of black, and it er... only worked on dogs. Yeah, that's right! It wouldn't do a fine, healthy tortoise like you a bit of good, sir!"

"Whuh? A... massage chair?" Tortimer repeated, blinking as his fury deflated and befuddlement took its place. "But... I've always wanted one of those. You knew that, Redd."

"He offered me nearly twice what it was worth," Redd whined. "Surely you understand, Mr. Tortimer, sir. It was too good a deal to pass up! I'm a businessman first, and a friend second! You know that!"

Tortimer stiffened for a moment or two, and then his shoulders fell slack and he sighed. "I've had enough," he said dejectedly. "I'm going home, Bruno. I guess I'm just a pathetic old fool who's doomed to live the rest of his life without a shell to snuggle into. How will I ever pull off next year's election without my beautiful shell? The villagers will all laugh me right out of the race!"

Leaving Redd to his cowering, they left the tent and trudged back to the Town Hall. "It isn't all that bad, Mayor Tortimer," Bruno offered. "You really are in good shape. Why, after a week or two, I'm sure everyone will have forgotten you even had a shell."

Tortimer turned and looked at him, and he looked as though he were about to cry. "What a terrible thing to say," he chided him dully. "A proud tortoise is nothing without his magnificent shell. For people to have forgotten the way mine shone in the morning dew, or how its rings were so intricate and colorful... that would quite break my poor, old heart, young Bruno."

"Brunooooo!" came a cry from the town gate, rescuing Bruno from his floundering efforts to cheer up the despondent reptile. "I've got it, Bruno! Don't let him go inside yet!"

"Finally!" Bruno groaned, grabbing Tortimer's shoulder and laughing. "I was beginning to get desperate, Lucky! He looks like he's ready to throw himself into the lake!"

The gauze-wrapped, spry dog came bounding across the meadow, carrying in his bandaged arms what had to be the largest wrapped present anyone in Animal Forest had ever seen. His shouting and bounding caught the attention of the town residents, who all came racing up to see what the fuss was about. Everyone in town loved some good gossip, and this promised to be a great spectacle indeed.

When he reached Bruno and the very confused Tortimer, Lucky dropped the huge, wrapped box on the gravelly parking lot of the Town Hall and rested his paws on his knees, panting heavily. "I came as fast as I could," he gasped, wheezing slightly through his wrappings. "That darn Kapp'n kept wanting to chew the fat, and I swear he drove slowly on purpose. When we got as far as the gate, I just hopped out and came running, because I knew it'd be faster. Sorry, Bruno!"

"What on earth is the meaning of this?" Tortimer demanded. "I thought you said Lucky was visiting his mother in the city!"

"Well, technically, I didn't lie to you," Bruno laughed, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. "I just didn't tell you why. His mom is a bang-up upholsterer. Go ahead, Lucky. You're the one who came up with this idea. You should tell him."

"Mr. Mayor," Lucky panted, his tongue sticking out of his gauze as he tried to recover from his frenzied sprint. "Do you realize what day today is?"

"Why, it's... it's quite obviously... ergh... Pelly!" he shouted, rapping his cane on the ground in frustration. The front door of Town Hall opened, and both Pelly and Phyllis came out. Pelly had a rather sheepish look on her face, but Phyllis was grinning ear to ear. "Yes, Mr. Mayor?" Pelly asked timidly.

"What is today's date?" Tortimer asked her. "These nincompoops can't remember it!"

"Well sir, today is April first," she replied, glancing awkwardly at Bruno and then at Lucky as she told him. "It's April Fool's day, sir."

"April first, eh?" he muttered, finding himself thinking about the date despite his desire to get to the bottom of this strange activity. "That's odd. April first is my birthday!"

"We had the toughest time getting your shell from you," Lucky chuckled impishly. "We had to get Pelly and Phyllis to tell us when would be the best time to come for it, and that one of them would have to sneak it away for us. We had no idea you took it off to take your naps. Pelly never looked in on you during those, so she didn't know either. She just figured it would be the easiest time to pull it off you without being noticed."

"I went in to get it, because sis wimped out," Phyllis chuckled. "There you were, sleeping like a baby, with that hulking carapace just leaning pretty as you please against your chair. It was like taking candy from a baby turtle," she laughed, her merry face looking more sinister than happy. "When you woke up and started squalling, I couldn't keep myself under control. Sis had to be the one to pretend not to know what was going on, and I have to admit, she's a better actress than I would have given her credit for."

"Wait just a minute!" Tortimer shouted, waving his hands in the air to stop all the laughter that had erupted throughout the crowd of animals that had now gathered 'round. "So it was you four who stole it? Bruno, Lucky, Phyllis, and Pelly? How could you do something so cruel? Phyllis, I guess I could understand, but Bruno and Lucky... and Pelly! Pelly, how could you be so heartless! I thought you were such a sweet girl!"

"Oh, please hurry up and tell him!" Pelly cried, hiding her face behind her wing feathers and shaking her head. "I can't stand it!"

"To make a long story short," Lucky laughed, "we had to take your shell, Mr. Mayor, because it was the only way to give you your birthday present. Here. Open it up and see what we got you! Everyone in town pitched in!"

The crowd erupted in loud cheers and hoots, and Bruno pushed Tortimer toward the box, laughing and slapping him playfully on the back. Still unwilling to quite let go of his anger and confusion, Tortimer obstinately folded his arms and turned his head. "Ha! Some friends I have! Stealing my own shell and then giving it to me in place of a real birthday present! What kind of a sick joke are you people playing on this poor public servant, I ask you? You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Oh for goodness' sakes, Lucky, just open the silly thing for him," Phyllis groaned, rolling her eyes. "I should have known he'd be his usual stubborn self and act like a little hatchling. You want to pout, Tortimer? Go ahead and pout. You'll sing a different tune in a minute or two."

Lucky didn't need any further prompting, because he was already champing at the bit to see Tortimer's reaction. "I'm gonna do it then!" he cried, grabbing one of the ends of the ribbon used to make the bow on top of the gift, and then yanking it downward, untying the lid of the box. He tossed the lid away and tilted the large box over onto its side, causing something large and round to roll out of it.

"Feh," Tortimer snorted. "It's my shell. What a surprise."

"Put the darn thing on already," Phyllis said impatiently. "That ridiculous pink dress you're wearing is making my eyes hurt."

"Maybe I should stay this way for good," Tortimer sniffed. "Then you'll all be happy. Ha-ha! There goes Tortimer! Doesn't he look hilarious? Let's get our pictures taken with him!"

"Tortimer, you put that shell on right now, or you'll be drinking cold coffee for a month!" Phillis roared, causing everyone present to shrink away from her, including Pelly, who should have been used to her sister's temper, but had never really built up a resistance.

Quailing visibly, Tortimer gulped and quickly yanked the frilly dress off, despite his reddened cheeks at being disrobed in front of so many onlookers. It was easy to see exactly who ran the office, and it certainly wasn't him!

After grumbling and muttering angrily to himself, Tortimer slid the shell on, relieved at least to be back in familiar surroundings. He was surprised to find the inside a little springier and more comfortable than usual. Perhaps all his time away from the precious covering had made his body accept its return that much more.

"Now?" Lucky asked Phyllis.

"Definitely," she replied, her eyes glittering with mischief.

Lucky walked into the box and pulled a remote control out. It had been taped to the inside of the box to keep it from rattling around. He grinned first at Tortimer and then Bruno before pressing the large, red button in the center.

The effect was immediate. With a yelp of surprise, the mayor leapt into the air and then began dancing wildly, hollering and clutching at his shell. The whole town exploded with delighted laughter, and although Lucky was laughing very hard himself, he quickly pressed the button again to give the frightened mayor some relief.

"What in the world...? What did you hoodlums do to my shell?" he roared.

"We had a massage chair installed in it for you," Lucky laughed, handing him the remote and jumping around excitedly. "Now you can massage away your mayorly aches and pains, and you won't have to even take your shell off to do it!"

Cheers and loud whooping broke out, and Tortimer stared in unqualified shock at all the happy, eager faces around him. He stared down at the remote and noticed that the knob had been turned up to the maximum, which was labeled, "jackhammer." He cleared his throat and held up his hand, brandishing his cane impressively.

"Everyone quiet for a moment, please!" he called out, feeling very relieved indeed when they did as he asked and a hush filled the parking lot. "I now understand what all this nonsense has been about, and I must say, I'm both pleased and flattered that you would think of me when you all have so much going on in your busy lives."

"Here it comes," Phillis groaned quietly to Pelly. "He's going to make one of his long-winded speeches, isn't he?"

"Shh!" Pelly replied, giggling despite herself. "Let him do what he wants. It's his birthday, after all."

"Yes, and he is the quintessential April Fool," Phyllis chuckled dryly. They fell silent as Tortimer shot them a stern glance, and then he continued.

"Friends, I am honored by your gesture, and I promise to do the very best job I can to repay your kindness with my hard work on our town's behalf. However, there is something I must add, and young Lucky, you must not take these words the wrong way. You see, I'm afraid you don't understand the subtle intricacies of massage chairs, and you used it quite incorrectly before. When one sits in a massage chair, one must start with the lowest setting and gradually work one's way up. You did not know this, so you quite startled me. However, I'm more than willing to let your mistake slide, so don't worry."

"Three cheers for the mayor!" Bruno cried. A resounding sequence of huzzahs filled the air, and amidst the chaos and the noise, Mayor Tortimer discreetly turned on his new internal massager, cracking his face open in a wide grin at the soothing, rhythmic vibrations it sent shooting through his sore muscles. He was so glad that so many people recognized what terrifically hard work it was to be the mayor. It almost made him regret that he had sold Gulliver the rights to lead noisy tour groups over the town's airways.

Almost.


End file.
